


Lavender Sprigs and Iron Filings

by Mellisah



Series: Salt and Silver [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Paranormal Investigators, but it's just a continuation of salt and silver with more worldbuilding and it's longer wow, still don't know how to tag-
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellisah/pseuds/Mellisah
Summary: “Hello?” Lance cleared his throat loudly.Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. “Voltron Psychic Agency, we fight your spirits with the hearts of lions!” he said in an obviously sarcastic tone.





	Lavender Sprigs and Iron Filings

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, man, it sure has been a while since I've posted a story on here, ahaha. This has been in the works for a while, so I just decided, screw it, I'm splitting it up into two parts and uploading the second part sometime later. So- look forward to that? Whenever it may be.

“That’s it. I’m dead. I’m not getting up ever again.” Lance announced, collapsing onto the couch in Shiro’s apartment. 

“Lance, you’re being melodramatic,” Keith huffed, settling himself down on the armchair in the corner. Shiro entered with a tray of lavender tea, passing mugs to to the others before sitting at the dining table, nursing his own tea. 

“Was it that hard of a case?” he asked, blowing the steam away gently. “Me and Keith both got relatively easy cases- just level ones and the occasional two.” 

“Lucky.” Hunk muttered from where he’d sprawled on the floor earlier. Keith took pity and tried to help him up, but only got a few steps before Hunk fell to the carpet again with a dull thud. 

“C’mon, big guy.” Keith hauled Hunk onto the sofa and retreated back to his chair, grabbing his tea. 

“Yeah, you lucky bastards. Hunk’s client severely underestimated his spirit, and he came prepared for a level one or two and got a three instead. Meanwhile, I was dealing with a level two that was so strong it might as well have been classified as a level three-” 

Lance cut off as the door slammed open and Pidge stomped in, specks of salt and iron sprinkled in her hair and streaked on her face. 

“Guess who dealt with a level four today,” she announced loudly.

“Uh- Pidge, you got a little something- right- there,” Lance said, waving his hand in a circle. 

“Yeah, I got that.” Pidge said irritably, snatching a mug of tea and sitting at the table with Shiro, shedding small flakes with every step she took. 

“What happened?” Shiro asked, reaching a tentative hand to brush some more flakes out of her hair. She reached up to bat it away. 

“Level four Clattering Bones. I’d probably have died if I hadn’t brought Keith’s spare pack by accident. Keith’s spare pack with twenty-five magnesium flares. Really, Keith. Twenty-five? “

“Hey, you just said it helped you against that spirit!” Keith protested.

Pidge sighed. “At least it wasn’t fifty.”

“Fifty?” Lance asked incredulously. 

“Keith, minimum of fifteen flares when you go out. You don’t need fifty of them.” Shiro said offhandedly, standing up to put his mug in the sink.

“Fine,” Keith grumbled. “But are we just going to ignore that Pidge is just a tad bit… saltier than usual?”

“Screw you. If you must know, the flare misfired, exploded in my hands. Luckily, I hit the tether with that blast- a tile on the floor that somehow I’d missed- and vanished the spirit. It’s solved now, though I really wish the client had given me at least a warning. ‘Hey, man, I forgot to tell you that this particular entity is probably the embodiment of death itself!’”

“Wow. all of a sudden, me and Lance’s spirits seem… really inconsequential.” Hunk said, finally recovered and sipping at his lukewarm tea. 

“You’re right. Everything pales in comparison to my case. Shiro, I’m borrowing your shower. I need to get this mess out of my hair.” 

“You know where the towels are,” he said simply. Pidge trudged off to the restroom, trailing iron flakes. 

They settled into a comfortable silence, soft sounds of the running shower and bustle of the early morning city outside accompanying them. Keith was dozing in his chair and Lance was nodding off, head leaned on Hunk’s shoulder. Shiro had his eyes closed, one earbud inserted, resting but not quite sleeping. Ever since the incident a few years back, his talent had lessened- to be expected from a Touch specialist that had lost their arm, making him a touch paranoid. He was now the leader of the Voltron Psychic Agency, a small but reputable company that had made its name as a trustworthy ally. Lance and Hunk, efficient Visual duo. Lance had the deadly accuracy and Hunk had the smarts and physical strength to vanish any opponent they went against. Keith and Pidge were known for their sensitive Hearing, always in sync and able to cover any mistakes the other made. That left Shiro. While he fit in with any group, he usually worked solo after the incident, leaving him feeling a little lonely. He looked forward to major cases with a bit of morbid excitement, since it gave him an opportunity to work with everyone and give him a sense of belonging. When he opened his eyes again, the sun was high in the afternoon sky, and nobody had really moved. Pidge had finished her shower and joined them, resting at the foot of the couch and breathing softly, water droplets falling from her hair every so often. Hunk and Lance had curled up a little more together, Keith still unmoved for the most part. Shiro stood up and stretched, figuring he could make a light lunch for them. He heard a slight rustle and turned around. Keith had woken up, eyes still heavy with sleep. Shiro waved from the kitchen, washing the lettuce.

“‘Ey, Shiro,” Keith mumbled drowsily. 

“Hey, Keith. Are you okay with sandwiches for lunch?” Keith gave a sleepy nod and hauled himself off of the armchair, padding sleepily over to the kitchen. He handed Keith a tomato to cut, watching him slice it for a few seconds to make sure he wouldn’t cut himself accidentally before turning back to take apart the lettuce.[kw] Hunk woke up to the sound of Keith’s knife hitting the cutting board, untangling himself from Lance and heading over to help make lunch.

“Sandwiches?” 

“Yeah. You alright with that?” 

“Mhm.”

Next to wake up was Lance, who stood up and promptly tripped over Pidge’s leg, hitting the floor with a thud. 

“Ow.” Pidge muttered, voice slurred with drowsiness. “Lance, be careful.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You good?”

“I’m fine.” 

“Hey, while you’re up, would you mind getting extra supplies?” Keith called from the kitchen. “I left my knife at home, since I didn’t need it for last night’s case.”

“Sure. C’mon, Pidgeon, let’s go on a scavenger hunt.” Lance hauled Pidge up by her arm, all but dragging her out the door.

The sandwiches finished, Shiro, Hunk, and Keith sat down at the table to eat. A while later, Lance and Pidge entered the room, juggling spare supplies and their specialty equipment. Keith’s iron-silver alloy knife, formerly a family heirloom, Lance’s crossbow that shot silver-tipped arrows- one of Coran’s extra weapons that he’d given Lance, Hunk’s old spice belt he’d gotten from Lance a few years ago as a gag gift, repurposed to hold spare lavender, iron, and salt, and Pidge’s silver katar-inspired blade, a gift from Allura for her birthday the year before. Shiro always carried around his specialty item- it being attached to him- his silver-lined prosthetic. 

“Are you guys ready for the case tonight?” Lance asked brightly, dumping his load onto the table, grabbing his crossbow and slinging a duffel bag-turned-quiver over his shoulder.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Hunk said, brushing crumbs off the table and onto his hand. 

Pidge fished her blade out of the pile, inspecting it for a second before responding. “Ready.”

Keith withdrew his knife and polished it on his shirt, careful not to touch the edge. He nodded curtly.

“Almost time to go.” Shiro said in response, looking out the window at the nearly setting sun. 

“Oh, we haven’t had a joint case like this in forever!” Lance grinned. “The last one was that.. uh … poltergeist, wasn’t it? In the Deial house.”

“Didn’t we have the Radiant before that? Remember, on Altea Drive?” Pidge frowned. 

“No, that was before the poltergeist. I remember because of that mess of a Shade outbreak a while back- that was definitely before.” Keith said, sliding his knife into its sheath. 

Hunk shuddered. “I remember that Shade outbreak. Oh man, so much work to do. Though, it was sort of fun- I got to work with people I usually wouldn’t have the opportunity to. Like… the Balmera agency? Shay, Rax? They were great to work with.” Hunk sighed fondly.

“Oh, and Olkarion? They had such cool technology,” Pidge gushed, eyes lighting up just remembering it. “They taught me how to use some of it, and that was almost worth the entire outbreak- almost!” she recovered, catching herself. “It was still really annoying.” 

Shiro laughed dryly. “I had to work with the Galran agency. Let me tell you, that was a rough time- Haggar, the vice president, I think- she was always telling me what to do. And don’t even get me started on Zarkon. If I can, I never want to work with them again.” 

“Their off-branch is cool, though.” Keith said offhandedly. “Blade of Marmora.”

“The agency Plaxum is from is cool, too!” Lance said. “Uh, I think it was called-” he was interrupted by the phone ringing. Keith was closest to it, so he picked it up. 

“Hello?” Lance cleared his throat loudly. Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. “Voltron Psychic Agency, we fight your spirits with the hearts of lions!” he said in an obviously sarcastic tone. 

A laugh from the other end. “Don’t worry, Keith, it’s just me.” 

“Allura? How are you? Oh, wait, give me a second. I’ll put you on speakerphone.” Keith pressed the button, Allura’s voice broadcasted out to the others, a little tinny over the speakers.

“I’m fine, and I trust all of you are fine as well.” A murmur of assent. “I have some news about the case you all are going on tonight- the one on Arus Boulevard? Coran had some free time today, so he decided to research the house you’re going to, to give you a heads-up of any surprising events.” 

“What did he find, Allura?” said Shiro, leaning closer to the phone to pick up all the details.

“He didn’t find anything that the case file doesn’t already detail, but he did find details about the death. A girl, about 17, leaned against a rotting bannister, fell. Not even carpeted flooring to break her fall. Horrid death, really. Right before her 18th birthday, so-”

“-she could be overly hostile.” Pidge interrupted.

“Precisely.” A shout from the other side. “Oh, I have to go! I look forward to hearing how the case goes!” A click, a dial tone. 

“Well, you heard her. Stay on guard- this spirit could be more dangerous than we think. Try not to get sidetracked or distracted. We should get moving. Everyone prepared?” 

A few minutes later, they were piling into the agency’s “official” van(really just Shiro’s old minivan with a logo and a new coat of paint) on their way to Arus Boulevard. 

Pidge pulled out a thin folder, reading the text in the fading evening light. Hunk helpfully turned on the overhead light near him, and she murmured a quick thanks. 

“House belongs to a group of three- Cassia Cristobal Hunt, Shima Hoshizora, and Lavender Avis,” she read aloud. “They bought it a few months ago, and no disturbances until about three weeks ago, when they did a bit of redecorating. Small things- chill spots, interference with lights and electronics, that kind of thing. They say it’s gotten worse- Cassia’s reportedly been feeling malaise and Shima keeps getting whiffs of what she’s convinced is miasma. Lavender has a bit of sight- says a shadowy figure moves around the walls and stairs at dusk. What do you guys think?”

“Sounds like a Shifter, from what Lavender’s been seeing,” Keith offered.

“But Shifters don’t cause miasma, do they? The chill spots and malaise are signs of them, but they’re basically just shadows.” Lance said. 

“All spirits cause miasma,” Hunk said. “Some just aren’t that noticeable, that’s all.” 

“So our best bet is a Shifter, though it might be something else.” Pidge muttered, popping the cap off of a pen with her mouth and scribbling “Shifter?” in the margins. They drove in silence for a bit more, the only talking being done by their GPS, jokingly named Voltron by Lance. 

They neared the address being read aloud by Voltron. A harried figure sat on the stairs, perking up as they saw the van. Shiro parked, and they filed out to meet the young woman fidgeting nervously at the foot of the stairs. 

“Oh, thank goodness! Voltron Psychic Agency, right?” she rushed over to them, shook Shiro’s hand. “I’m Cassia Hunt. Lav and Shima went to a friend’s house- where we’re staying while all this happens, they’re gonna pick me up later- because I drew the short stick of having to stay until you guys got here, and- oh, I’m sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous, and waiting at dusk is- very nerve-wracking.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. Hunt,” Shiro said calmly, respectfully. “Thank you for staying to greet us. Anything you have to say before we go in?” 

“Uh- oh, yeah. Lavender saw the thing again, and this time she said it had somewhat of a distinctive figure- she says it looks like-” here, Cassia wet her lips, clearly more nervous, as if giving the spirit a description made it more real. “She says it looked like a girl. In- in like a… sundress.” Cassia suddenly became more fidgety, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fiddling with a loose thread, tapping her foot restlessly against the ground. 

Shiro noticed her increased nervousness and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey.” he said in a soft voice. “We’ll get the spirit out.”

Cassia looked up at him, then let out a loud sigh. “I really hope you do.” Her voice was small, trembling. She shrugged Shiro’s hand off; dug into her pocket and pulled out a key. “Here’s the key to the house. Good luck.”


End file.
